


Brave New World

by Fyre



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once he was a teacher, now he is the student. There is much Ichabod Crane must learn about the world he now lives in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave New World

Irving didn’t immediately look up from the report when the door of his office opened. He finished reading the paragraph he was on, then looked up, frowning at the sight of Mills’s pet crazy Englishman.

“Crane.”

Crane inclined his head. “Captain.” He very deliberately shut the door of the office behind him. “I was wondering if you have a moment.”

Irving set down the report. “That depends,” he said. “You going to tell me that another body has turned up headless?”

Crane clasped his hands together in front of his chest. “Not as far as I’m aware,” he said. “It is a more… private matter. I fear I cannot ask the Lieutenant about it, as it may be indelicate to her sensibilities.”

Mills wasn’t what Irving would call delicate in a million years. If something was indelicate for her, it gave him a flash of images that no amount of brain bleach would ever get out. He blinked hard. “You got five minutes,” he said, “and if this involves any kind of nudity, we are gonna have a problem.”

Crane looked mortified. “Nothing of the sort!” he exclaimed. He put his hand into the pocket of his coat, and pulled out a can of deodorant. He looked embarrassed, holding it out. “The Lieutenant provided this for me. I’m a little uncertain as to its use.”

Irving stared at him. “You have got to be joking.”

“It says to apply to bare skin,” Crane said, “but it also cautions that it is flammable, and that it is antiperspirant. According to my knowledge of biology, the human body must be capable of perspiring to maintain one’s temperature, and I know with certainty that becoming inflammable due to a solvent on one’s skin would be very dangerous.”

Irving passed one hand over his eyes, then looked up at Crane again. “You’re not joking, are you?” he said. Crane’s expression went all old-school glare. Irving reached over and snatched the can, flipping the cap. “It’s what we use these days to keep people from smelling too bad.”

Crane’s eyebrows rose. “I had noticed a distinct lack of natural aroma,” he admitted. “I assumed it was because of the prominence of bathing chambers in every house.”

“That doesn’t hurt,” Irving acknowledged, “but this is what you put on your skin to keep yourself fresh as a daisy all day long.”

“But surely that is dangerous?”

“It doesn’t stop the sweat,” Irving replied shaking his head. “It just stops it from smelling too bad.”

“But the flammable warning…”

“That’s only if you spray it near open flames, Crane,” the Captain replied, spraying some onto his palm and sniffing. “This isn’t the strong stuff.” He replaced the cap and tossed it back to Crane, who caught it neatly. “Don’t use too much of it and don’t put it on around candles, and you’ll be fine.”

Crane bowed slightly as he put the can back into his pocket. “Thank you, Captain. This has been most illuminating.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Irving said, waving him away.

Crane stopped by the door, looking back. “Captain, if I may ask…”

Irving raised his eyes to the ceiling. “What?”

“Is my aroma so dreadful that the Lieutenant believed I required this?”

Irving looked at him. “Crane,” he said as calmly as he could, “speaking to you as another man, I am not gonna answer that question.”

Crane looked back at him, nodded curtly. “Thank you regardless.”

As soon as the door closed, Irving rocked back in his seat, his hand over his eyes. “Why me, Lord, why me?” he muttered. “What the hell did I do to deserve this precinct?”

 

 

_________________________________________

 

 

Crane was skulking around the doorway.

Luke buttoned his pants, and turned. “You got a problem?”

“Not at all,” Crane said.

“So, perusing again?” Luke said dryly, tossing the man’s own word back at him, as he flushed the urinal and headed for the sink. “You peruse in the mens’ room, and people are going to start getting antsy.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” the man said.

Luke glanced up at the mirror, and could see the way the pompous ass drew himself up, as if making himself taller made him less of a perving creep. “I bet Abbie won’t be pleased to know you’ve been looking at men in the restroom,” he said with malicious glee.

“I simply wanted to know how the lavatory facilities functioned,” the man snapped.

“What? Never seen a restroom before?”

Crane’s brows drew together in a frown. “As a matter of fact, no, I have not,” he said tartly. “Tell me, young man, have you dug a cesspit, because if we are basing this on comparable experience, I imagine your extensive knowledge of them will quite surpass my familiarity with your ‘rest room’.”

“Still playing the ‘I’m from the 18th century’ card, huh?” Luke shook the water off his hands, and turned around to face Crane. “I’m not buying it.”

“To be quite frank, I’m not entirely certainly which ‘it’ you are referring to,” Crane retorted, “but even if you offered me a decent price, I would not put ‘it’ in your hands regardless.”

Luke wiped his hands on his pants. “You are a piece of work,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t see what Abbie sees in a guy who should be locked up in a psyche unit.”

“Ah, I see,” Crane said. “You see me as competition for the Lieutenant’s affections, do you? Well, that concern is entirely misplaced.”

That brought Luke up short. “You aren’t interested in her?”

Crane smiled slightly, mockingly. “You misunderstand me, sir,” he said. “I was not speaking of Miss Mills’ affections. I was speaking of your perception of this would-be competition. Your concern is misplaced because if I were interested, you would not stand a chance.”

Luke stared at the guy in astonishment. “You arrogant son of a bitch.”

Crane inclined his head. “It has been said,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind. I would rather like to urinate.”

Luke turned to stare as the man walked by him to the urinals.

Crane glanced back over his shoulder. “Perusing, are we?” he said. “Perhaps you should take your own advice.”

Luke snorted, turning and stalking out of the room.

 

 

___________________________________________

 

 

“I don’t see why this is necessary.”

Abbie didn’t even both looking back to make sure he was following her. “It’s necessary because your clothes are out of date and falling to pieces,” she said. “Not many people have saved the world in clothes they were buried in.”

“Well, that’s as may be, but I have no desire to wear anything that I have seen in this world,” Ichabod said, several paces behind her. “This coat has seen me through many tribulations. I’m quite attached to it.”

“I didn’t say we were gonna burn it, Crane,” she said with a crooked smile. “We just need to get you a bigger wardrobe.”

He made a small, non-committal sound.

Abbie sighed, turning. “Look, I know you feel comfortable in those clothes, and I know it’s going to be weird wearing something new and unfamiliar, but clothing doesn’t last forever, and I’d prefer you had back-up pants just in case something happens to those ones.”

For a second, Crane looked like a stubborn kid, his hands deep in his pockets. “I’m keeping the coat,” he said.

“I never said you weren’t,” she agreed. “And we’ll find you something you’ll feel comfortable in. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in sweats or running pants.”

“If I knew what either of those things were,” he said, sniffing, “I might feel comforted.”

Abbie gave him a look. “Do I seem the kind of person who would do something to make you feel uncomfortable?”

“That depends,” he said. “Are you still irate about my interaction with that young man of yours?”

Of course, he had to bring that up. Luke had ranted at her, at length, about Ichabod, and she didn’t know the exact details of what had happened between them, but it was enough to put her on edge, especially since it was before she had her morning coffee. 

“Even so,” she said, turning and walked on towards the mall. “If you and Luke have a problem, that’s between you. I’m not fixing every problem you have with people, but I’m not going to make you uncomfortable just because you pissed off my ex.”

“Oh.” He fell into step alongside her. “Good. You were… somewhat alarming this morning, when you collected me from my accommodation.”

“That wasn’t all on you, Crane,” she said, walking towards the doors.

To her amusement, Crane hurried a step ahead, and stopped short, looking indignant when the doors opened for him. He liked his old-school chivalry, and it must have annoyed him not to be able to hold the doors for her.

“Technology,” she said, walking by him. 

“Do all doors have this capability?” he demanded, hurrying after her.

“Only if people want it,” Abbie replied. “They can put a sensor above the door that registers when someone is approaching it.”

“That seems a rather wasteful use of that electrical power you mentioned,” he said, looking back indignantly. “Surely, energy should be preserved, rather than encouraging people to lazy behaviour? After all, it takes but a moment to open a door.”

She looked at him. “It’s just a door, Crane.”

“But what next?” he demanded. “A window? A roof?” 

He stopped dead.

Abbie looked ahead, lips twitching. “Or a staircase.”

“Science has advanced much, I see,” he said dryly. “Tell me, Lieutenant, do people retain the use of their arms and legs?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Crane, we’ve talked about you abusing sarcasm.”

He pursed his lips. “It’s unnecessary,” he said, waving towards the escalator. “Is it considered a crime to use ones limbs for the purposes for which God intended? Or do people really prefer to be moved from place to place with no effort whatsoever?” He thrust his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. “If it were to ascend a cliff or go to some great height, it might have a use, but it’s a dozen stairs at most!”

“This is gonna be the donut tax all over again, isn’t it?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

He snorted. “It seems I have woken in the time of idleness,” he said. “No wonder hell seems quite free to open its gates. Everyone is too busy on moving staircases and walking through self-opening doors to care.”

“You’re a grumpy old man, you know that?” she said. “C’mon. Try the escalator. They’re not so bad.” She slanted a mischievous look at him. “I hear old people like to use them, and you’re probably the oldest person to ever set foot in this mall.”

“Your wit, as ever, Lieutenant, dazzles.”

She gave him a look. “For that, I’m not going to tell you the secret of the escalator,” she said, shoving him onto the first step. She walked over to the adjacent one, and stepped on, watching Crane turning around on the step, one hand clutching the railing tightly.

He reached the top before she did, and she saw the momentary panic.

“Lieutenant?” he called over. 

Abbie stepped off the escalator, coming around to the top of his. It was like watching a kid trying to figure it out, as he kept stepping back onto the step below the top one, staring warily at the grid at the top.

“Problem?”

He darted a look up at her. “How does one get off?” he asked, before looking back at his feet and the rapidly vanishing steps.

“You going to stop complaining about the mall?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Fine!” he exclaimed. “Just help me get off this damned contraption!”

Abbie reached out, grabbed the front of his coat and yanked him forward.

Crane stumbled, catching her shoulders to steady himself, then straightened up, smoothing down his coat. “A lesson, Lieutenant?”

“You’re the teacher,” she said. “You tell me.”

He looked back at the escalator, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, indeed,” he said. “I have learned that the way to get off a moving staircase is not to get on one to begin with.”

Abbie grinned. “Good enough,” she said. “Now come on. We need to get you something to wear.”

 

 

__________________________________________

 

 

“You see it?” Jenny hissed.

Crane risked a glance. Something yowled in the darkness. “I would wager a guess it was in that direction,” he said, with a jerk of his thumb.

Jenny grimaced. “Not easy to see the things in this light,” she said. She and English had ended up in the woods behind Corbin’s cabin, and no matter how much she tried to have an arsenal available, sometimes, you just had to make do. “If the moon was up, we’d be able to see something.”

“If you have a tinder box, there are fallen branches enough here. We could make torches,” Crane suggested under his breath. “I can use them to divert the beast, to give you time to reach the weapons. Most creatures fear fire.”

“Even demons crawled out of the bowels of hell?” Jenny said. “Fiery pit and all that?”

He glanced at her in approval. Abbie said he was an old-time school teacher, and sometimes, when he spoke or looked at them, she could see it. He appreciated smarts, and that was a good thing to have on their side. 

“This particular demon has devoured a human to claim his form,” he said. “While the demon within may be immune to the fire, the vessel is not.”

“When you say devoured, that means the person inside was killed, right? The real person?”

Crane nodded grimly. “We reached them too late.”

“That makes this easier, then.” Jenny crouched down, pulling one of the broken branches closer. There were dry tangles of brush that would work well enough to make the torch. “You figure I’m the one to go for the weapons?” she whispered, as he crouched down beside her, one hand braced on the tree trunk behind her.

“Well, it seems sensible, as you know where they are and how to use them,” he said. “I also have longer legs, so I may be able to outrun the creature.”

“May isn’t a word I wanna hear right now, Cornwallis.”

She heard his breath catch in outrage. “I resent the implication…”

She shot a grin at him. “I know,” she said, pulling out her lighter. It sparked to life and Crane fell back on his ass in astonishment. 

“How…?”

“Call it a modern day tinderbox,” she said, holding it to the weeds. They curled and blackened but didn’t take. “Damn it. Too wet.” She looked at him appraisingly. “You wouldn’t have an accelerant would you?”

“An accelerant? We need speed?”

She shook her head. “Something that burns.”

In the faint light, she saw his eyes widen. 

“As a matter of fact…” He groped in his coat, pulling out a can of deodorant.

She looked at it, then him. “Do I even want to know why you’re carrying it around?”

“A precaution against your sister’s wrath,” he replied dryly. “I have been told I’m ‘ripe’ one too many times, and that seems to be the only repellent to keep the insult at bay.”

Jenny stifled a snort. “Well, Princess Margaret, you may just have saved our asses.” She scrambled upright. “You stay behind me, and I’ll show you what a tinderbox and some fancy boy body spray can do to clear us a path.”

She stepped out into the clearing, stamping and cracking branches underfoot. Something moved in the dark, clattering closer, and she could hear the hissing rasping breaths. Maybe it liked the look of fire, but touching it was a whole other thing.

She saw gleaming eyes in the darkness and snapped the lighter to life. 

“Captain Irving warned me not to put it near fire…”

Jenny’s grin widened. “Oh, I bet he did. Just watch.” She turned her hand, and sprayed. 

Flames blossomed outwards, and somewhere in the heart of the flames, something screamed. She didn’t let up until the can ran dry, and the afterglow of the fire shone blue and white across her eyelids.

She heard Crane step out from his hiding place, looking around at the smouldering blackened forest. “Well,” he said. “That seemed to work quite well.”

She tossed the can back to him. “Good teamwork,” she said. “Don’t forget to restock when you get back to Abbie.”

He looked at the can, then at her. “And can you recommend a place that I can acquire one of those fire boxes?”

Jenny laughed. “It’d be my pleasure.”


End file.
